Doughnuts & Coffee
by HippieHebe
Summary: How did Sylvia and Dallas come to be? This is my take on the idea. ONESHOT.


**Disclaimer:** Hinton owns all.

xXx

Doughnuts and coffee. Sylvia underlined the words in her notebook, and then yawned. The sheer reason she'd picked her father's job over her mother's was because she thought it was all action, and watching hoods getting arrested was big gossip at school. Sadly, the most action she'd seen today was watching her father down a whole box of doughnuts and chug down three cups for coffee. She should have picked her mother. Doing the housework and a few martinis wasn't as boring as sitting in a car all day and eating junk. Her thighs would be as big as balloons by the end of the day if she had anymore of the sugar coated rings.

"No wonder you have heart problems," Sylvia said. "All you do all day is sit and eat junk." He also drank a lot, and even been suspended because of it. But she didn't dare mention that.

"A doughnut here and there isn't going to hurt," her father replied.

"You had a whole box."

Her father opened his mouth and then closed it again when a static voice garbled through the radio. Sylvia frowned watching her father answer the call. She rolled her eyes when he replied back in something that sounded like Morse code gibberish.

"Well Sport," her father said. "You finally get to see your daddy arrest someone."

xXx

"Stay in the car," her father said, climbing out after they had rolled up at the Ribbon. "You might get hurt."

Sylvia complied; she had no attention of getting out anyway. Nobody needed to know her father was a cop. Most of her friends boy's had been arrested so many times they had come to hate the fuzz themselves. Putting her feet up on the dashboard she doodled on her notebook, she frowned and wondered if it'd qualify for extra credit. Unlike her friend Kathleen, she had no intention of sleeping with any of the teachers for extra credit or good grades. With a heavy sigh, she threw the notebook on the dashboard and looked heavenward.

Five minutes later her father came out of one of the diners shoving a white blond boy in front of him. Sylvia watched the two throw words at each other before her father shoved him into the backseat of the car.

"No good punk," her father muttered, getting into the drivers side. "You need to find yourself a new hobby Winston. How many times has it been now? Six? Seven?"

"Enough," the blond grunted.

"Winston here has become quiet the regular," her father said, now talking to her. "If he carries on like this he'll have a bigger record than those Shepard boys."

Sylvia didn't reply as she looked at him from the rear view mirror. Her heart leapt into her cheat when two clear blue eyes stared back. His hair was long and fell over his forehead and the back of his neck like in a feathery blond crown. His hair may have looked childlike but the rest of his features were hard and almost wild looking.

"Keep your eyes down, Winston," her father snapped. He just had to have eyes at the back of his head. Sylvia looked away quickly and out of the window. Stores whizzed past as they drove down the street.

"Shouldn't cops comply with speed limits," Sylvia asked.

"I ugh – need to go to the bathroom," her father replied.

"Three cups of coffee will do that to you," she said, and refrained the urge to roll her eyes. Her daddy hated that. There are had been a few slaps issued for looking heavenward during a fight.

"Is that an 'I told you so' I hear?"

"I think that's pretty obvious," Winston grunted, from the backseat.

"Shut up, kid!"

Sylvia looked up into the rear view mirror to find his blue eyes still fixed on her. Her heart began pounding again, and it was at that moment she knew she was in trouble.

xXx

Sylvia swivelled in her father's chair as he interrogated Dallas Winston. That was his name. She watched them with interest. Her father was an intimidating man, especially when angry. Whenever he shouted at her, her sisters or her mother – she always cringed or looked away in shame. But, Dallas didn't do any of those things. He looked at her father coolly in the eyes, and leaned back in his chair unfazed. Bar Tim Shepard she had never met anybody like that. She tried not to gape when Dallas swore at her father.

Dallas smirked when her father stormed into the staff room, and then turned his attention on her. Again, all he did was stare at her. She leaned back, and held her chin up high.

"I haven't seen you around school before," she said, crossing her legs.

"I don't go school."

"But you have a class ring," she replied, glancing at the items her father had taken off him and placed on the desk. One of them was a class ring, the rich seniors flashed around.

"So, that's what the fucking thing is." His eyes never left her. "I was thinking off pawning it off."

"Pawn it off? You're nuts," she said. "Everyone in school would kill for one of these." She picked up the ring and rolled it between her fingers.

"Big fucking deal."

"Charming," Sylvia replied with a frown, dropping it on the desk. It clattered on the wooden desk, and rolled to a halt.

"I've seen you around Buck's," he said, ignoring her. Sylvia blood ran cold, as she glanced at the staff room door.

"Keep your voice down," she hissed.

"What's wrong?" He leered. "Wouldn't daddy like his little girl partyin' hard?"

"Would your mama like to know what you got up to?" She countered. Dallas didn't reply, but continued to stare. Sylvia looked away feeling his gaze burn at her skin. Combing her hair back with her fingers, she straightened up her skirt and sat upright. Why did she feel so self conscious around him?

"You got a boyfriend?"

"I say 'no' and you ask me out," she replied. "I say 'yes' and you still-"

"Don't flatter yourself," Dallas interrupted. Sylvia frowned, trying to hide her surprise. That was first. No boy had ever talked to her like that.

"You got a girlfriend?" She asked.

"Nobody worth writing home about," he said.

"Is that a yes?" Sylvia questioned. "Or a no?"

"You talk too much," he replied. Sylvia sighed and narrowed her eyes. She couldn't figure out his game. She sunk a little into her seat when her father came back out of the office. Marching up to Dallas, he grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up. Not even batting an eyelash, Dallas stood up and silently walked into the cell her father pushed him in. Sylvia hated to admit it but she was impressed.

She lowered her gaze to the table and raised her eyebrows. The ring was gone. Looking under the papers and other rubbish, she frowned. It was nowhere in sight. She couldn't help but smile. Dallas Winston.

"Don't mess up the paperwork," her father scolded.

"Sorry," she replied. "I um - lost my pencil."

"Just take one out of my top drawer," her father said. "I'm just going to run to the bank. I'll be back soon."

Sylvia watched her father leave and made sure the other officers were busy before she got up and made her way to the holding cell, where Dallas was kept. Aside from a passed out tramp, he was the only one inside.

"What do you want?" Dallas sneered.

"I know you took it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, looking at ceiling.

"I know you took the ring," she said, sticking her arm in the cell she opened up her palm. "Give it to me."

He smirked, and slowly got up, walking up to her with his hands in his pockets. Then to her surprise, he grabbed her hand. She tried to wrench it free to no avail. He laughed.

"That's it," he said. "Fight like you don't want it."

She sucked in her breath as he traced the vein on her inner wrist, with his finger. Then without warning he yanked her forward until her body crushed against the cold metal bars.

"You bastard," she hissed.

"Shut up," he replied, using his free hand to hold her head and kiss her though the bars. The positioning was uncomfortable and his lips were rough but she saw stars. He pulled away and stared at her, with a wild look in his eyes.

"You bastard," she repeated, breathing hard. He smirked, and pulled the ring out of his pocket, and slid it on to her middle finger.

"You're mine."

Sylvia wanted to tell him to go to hell but couldn't find herself to say the words. She wanted him. She didn't care if she didn't know him, she didn't care that he was an asshole. She wanted him. She was his, from that moment on. And to think, she thought the day would be nothing but doughnuts and coffee.

xXx

This was inspired by a conversation with xocrazililkelox. Sylvia's father being a cop may be a bit out there, but I see him starting big and screwing up and taking his family into the doghouse due to bad habits. So, hopefully I won't be slated too much on that.


End file.
